


On the Low

by SnufflesThePig



Category: Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: BAMF Alfred Pennyworth, BAMF Damian Wayne, BAMF Jon Kent, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Damian and Jon are engaged, Damijon - Freeform, Don’t worry they get over it, Established Relationship, Feel-good, Friendship, Heteronormativity, High School, Jonathan Kent is a little shit, M/M, Minor Character Death, Misunderstandings, Relationship Reveal, Secret Relationship, Team Baby Jon Kent, Team Dynamics, There’s some art in here too, West Reeve Football Team, West-Reeve, You know Damian doesn’t date it’s marriage or nothing, football team
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-27 19:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30127968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnufflesThePig/pseuds/SnufflesThePig
Summary: Damian isn’t exactly used to sharing about himself. He and Jon are in agreement that the last thing they need is to draw attention to themselves at school. They didn’t think it would be a problem, but Jon just HAD to sign up for the football team, so of course Damian comes along as the new student coach.They’re here for six years, though, and a team is a team. On the football team at West-Reeve, well, it becomes a bit of a game.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Comments: 22
Kudos: 93





	1. Wayne Enterprises makes a donation. The donation is Damian.

**Author's Note:**

> Just want you to know that Damian has earrings and Jon has a 50s diner aesthetic. He’s a proper Riverdale bitch. As you were
> 
> (Side note: this is a football story about a football team written by someone who wouldn’t be able to tell a football from a basketball, so just- know that.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian and Jon have worked hard, and so has their team. Like it or not, they’re sort of invested now.  
> Ah, to lead a triple life.

It’s really not Jon’s fault.

Damian demanded why he needed to be a part of something so beneath him as a high school football team, and he responded that his dad told him that sports are great, they’re how you learn to be passionate and be one of the team. Damian said they had a team. Hell, they ARE a team.

Jon ignored him.

  
Much like Damian ignores him nowadays in favour of going over plays for the team. Jon didn’t really know he’d get this into it when he joined, but he doesn’t mind at all. Jon doesn’t really plan things, but he’s usually happy to go along with however they turn out. It turns out his fiancé is an excellent coach, and being on a team is fun.In fact, the team becomes a strange imitation of a family. Jon grows into himself not unlike his father, but no matter how big he gets, he remains Team Baby. He’s small when he joins, but not that small- the team insists it’s his personality or something. He doesn’t mind. He is, in fact, Baby.

  
Damian’s role wasn’t so easily claimed. He didn’t even try out as a player, he was never going to respond well to taking orders from anyone but Batman. He made a space for himself as the school’s first ever “student coach” or “student aid” or some such bullshit. Jon’s pretty sure he made that up, but being Bruce Wayne’s son (along with the unreasonable donations from WE to the sports department) goes a long way, and he had a whistle and a clipboard within the week.

  
But, ah, Damian wasn’t much of a team player. His backlog of teams up until then consisted of the League of Assassins, the Batclan, and more recently the Titans. High school footballers weren’t quite up to Damian’s expectations. Within four weeks the members were protesting, threatening to quit, or blowing up in new and exciting ways.  
Jon accepted that this was just going to be another thing to roll with, but another sharp turn changed things a bit.  
The second one of the members insisted that Damian was making them do things he never could, making his demands unfair, and Jon knew things were about to take a sharp right turn. Damian narrowed his eyes at the boy dangerously- Harry, Jon thought.  
“And what is it you think I can’t do?”, he asked, voice cold as ice.  
That doesn’t really work on high schoolers. It’s kind of like how chess masters get beaten by total amateurs because they don’t have a technique to analyse, they’re just doing whatever. The likes of Damian don’t really register to kids. Harry flaps his arms around at the course wildly.

  
“Anything! All of this! You can’t expect us to do this stuff, you couldn’t run it either!”

  
The other boys were looking between the two in apprehension or frustration. It was about time one of them popped, but this was still Damian Wayne.

So Damian ran the course with little to no effort, and everyone sort of shut up after that. He’d earned their respect, but Jon thinks maybe that’s when they earned his, because he started trying a little harder for them.  
He did get better with time and no small effort on his part. He works them hard, there’s no denying that, but he isn’t completely unreasonable anymore and he does take the team’s responses into account. Jon would never say it, but it’s definitely helped him in the field (aside from the fact that Jon has definitely seen him use field plays on patrol). Grow as a person, or something.

For the most part those on the team stick around year to year, but every now and then they gain an additional member. As such, their “coach” (the adult one stopped showing up in the first year) has to demonstrate his own ability once a year by running the hell course he puts them through. It’s probably an excuse for the team to see him in action again, or to not have to do it themselves. It seems like an excuse for something. Either way, it cements the strange bond between them more every year. It’s widely considered the best day of the season, at least among the team- a special occasion just between them.

  
So Damian carved out his place as the hardass from Hell, and Jon stays team Baby. This is who they are to the team.

And so, this is the lens through which they see Damian, who knows full well what Jon is capable of, run him into the ground even harder than the others. It’s not the same training as they know, but it’s a form of training nonetheless. Damian isn’t about to go easy on him just because they’re in civvies.  
It becomes a well known fact that poor little Jon is the constant target of mean old Damian’s unwarranted ire. That evil, merciless bastard had singled the sweetest kid on the team out from day one like a bully and picked on him out of spite.  
That stays a fact even after they reach an understanding and overcome their hostility, and it’s never been explained. Jon insists he doesn’t mind, defending Damian more often than not, which probably doesn’t help.  
It’s not unlike being written into a soap opera, and they delight in playing their roles. Damian gets a kick out of the idea that Jon is poor little anything.

High school boys have few consistent themes, but one of them is high school girls. In a team of high school boys, it’s going to come up. And it does.

  
John (the other one, they call him Jo) is always desperate to know everything. Who’s dating who? What’s a date like? Is kissing nice? The others are accustomed to brushing him off. He hardly expects an answer anymore.  
Harry’s had girls mooning after him since grade 8. He’s lots of fun, life of the party, it tracks.  
Will is a huge gossip and his friends outside the team are all girls, so he’s a veritable fountain of trivial social information. He’s a great big tease about it, mostly targeting Jo, because he’s an incorrigible bastard and he’s way too easy to fuck with.

  
Whenever the topic comes up, Jon is red faced and avoiding attention. Especially since Damian is like, right there. So they all assume he’s a shy baby, too soft, too pure, but they’re confident that will change in a few years (Spoiler alert: it doesn’t).

  
Vash is quiet as ever, and amazingly, he’s the first of them to get a girlfriend. He doesn’t tell them, Will does, and they all go a bit ape shit. Vash sort of just shakes his head and smiles fondly. Even as a kid he’s pretty mature, but they can tell he’s happy about it. Her name is Aviva. Vash becomes the butt of the issue for the next lord knows how long until they all jump on the bandwagon and start dating. Like he’s the ‘expert’ or something. How is she, what do you do, etc. Jo acts like Vash has the secrets of the universe and won’t share them.

  
Damian admonishes them for acting childishly over something trivial, not to mention the fact that any girl in their right mind would run in the face of their pitiful advances. Fix your attitude, Helmann (John), I feel sorry for the women in your future.

  
“Where do you get the authority on the topic, huh?”, David demands. “You’re no more experienced that us.”

  
Jon shoves his head into his locker in a valiant attempt to not cackle. Besides the fact that he’s engaged to Jon, everyone knows Damian is a)bonkers rich, b)a model, and c)usually the hottest topic around school at all times, but no one admits that right now.It didn’t take long for Damian to grow into one of the coolest cats to ever step foot in West-Reeve. In fact, he might have had that going for him the second he enrolled. He’s stunning, with a foreign accent and seemingly endless intellectual ability to boot. Sharp tongued and quick witted, and everyone knows it, because he’s famous too. So the team lays off him for a little while.

  
Now, some of the guys are friends outside of the team and at school too, so their lives are intertwined. Girls start to become another part of that. They show up at games to cheer, some meet up with them or pick them up. They come and go, through breakups, high points, virginity losses and more. Eventually, Jon stops feeling weird about it.

Harry asks Damian once why they never hear about girls with him. He’s certainly popular enough.

Jo snorts. “You’ve met him, right? You’ve heard him speak to other humans?”

Damian gives him a cutting look.“I don’t feel the need to brag inanely about my personal life. Besides, the tabloids have enough garbage to work with as it is, there’s no point in encouraging it.”

Jo leaps on that. “Wait, so you have dated?!”

“Leave him be, John, mate, it can’t be easy being a public figure,” Will interjects, his English accent drawling. Which is notable, coming from him.

“Yeah, guys. Besides, he’s a pretty private person, so there’s no need to pry. I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly care which beautiful model the Wayne Heir is with at any given time,” Jon adds, trying to keep the smirk out of his voice. He can feel Damian’s glare, but he doesn’t look.

“Oh my god that’s true, you’ve gotta be drowning in it, dude, I bet you get around-“

“What part about let it go do you not get, Jo?”

“Tt. Suffice it to say that I am not without experience.” Jon nearly drops his shampoo. “Now, ten laps, go!”

“What?! What for?!”

“For pushing me.”

(Damian is not above abusing his power, and abuse it he does.)

They leave Jon out of it for longer than he expected, but eventually, it does come up. They all seem confused when David asks the question “What about Jonny?”, like they’d never considered it. And they all turn and look at him frowning at once like that’ll help them picture it.

Jon looks like a deer in the headlights a bit, although he’s finally got a handle on his blushing.

“M-me?”, he squeaks. He can just about hear Damian rolling his eyes.

“You know, I actually haven’t heard anything about Jon,” Will says thoughtfully, leaning against a locker. That, in and of itself, is remarkable enough to get everyone’s attention.

“Well, I mean, he’s a big boy now...” Harry notes.

“Yeah, but... he’s Jon.”

“He’s baby,” nods Kareem.

“To us, yeah, but he’s the same age as any of us. If you think about it, he should be well into it too.”

“I’m right here,” Jon huffs, kind of getting sick of being talked about like he isn’t.

“You tell us, then. You got a crush?”, Jo wheedles.

Okay, so Jon doesn’t totally have his blushing under control.

“N-no...”

Jo gasps like he just admitted to winning the lotto. Vash rolls his eyes, and Damian’s got to be smirking, not that Jon’s about to check.

“Normally I’d say that means yes, but this is Jon we’re talking about, so it could mean anything,” Will states flatly.

“No way man, he lit up like a Christmas tree! Tell us Jonny! Tell! Tell! Spill us the deets!”

Harry grins cockily, shifting so one hip juts out. “Y’know, I’m on Jo’s side.”

“I feel like I have to vet this girl. Like, make sure she’s good enough for our little Jonny,” Jack says.

John continues his ‘tell us’ chant, which a few members join until just about all of them are cheering in good jest, drowning out Jon who’s grinning widely but still blushing and trying to get them to shut up. He’s yelling and gesturing at them for ages, because he can’t tell them anything over this racket, but at this point they’re just teasing him.

“I don’t have a crush!”, he giggles out, clutching his stomach.

“We’ll find you one!”

“Aziz, get the list!”

“What are you into?”

“Pretty sure Katy—“

“NO PLEASE DON’T DO THAT!” Jon yells, red as a lobster. His hands slap over his mouth way too late. Shit.

“So you do have one!”

“No!”

“Then why?”

“C’mon, you can tell us, Jon,” David assures.

“We’ll hold Jo back,” Vash agrees.

Jon takes a big breath with wide eyes, and it’s then he realizes that Damian’s left at some point. Jon doesn’t doubt that he COULD get through this pow-wow without laughing, but why would he when he could just slip off and cackle himself silly at a wall? That bastard.

Well, then it’ll be his fault, won’t it?

Since the team’s all agreed, they’re probably just worried he’s not telling them something important. He feels guilty because he super is, but that’s how it is. But they also definitely just like being nosy. If only Damian had been present, he could’ve avoided this unfortunate exposure.

“O-okay, well... I’m sort of in a relationship.”

Absolute uproar.

Jo shakes him violently by the shoulders, but Jon can’t hear what he’s saying over the cacophony of “OOOHHH”’s in the background. Seriously, they’re acting like they just won nationals. Harry and Aziz are jumping around like headless chickens, there is yelling on all parts. Will looks like he’s just been slapped, but he’s smiling.

“Calm down, will you?! Why didn’t you yell at anyone else when they said they were seeing someone?!”

Kareem shoves Jo off of him and pulls him protectively to his chest, arms around his head like the Virgin Mary or something.

“Oh my sweet baby boy.”

“This isn’t anyone else! This is you, dipshit!”, Harry crones.

“How?!” Will chokes. “How do I not know this?!”

Once they get Jo to shut up about how he told them so, he responds. “It’s not, like, a new thing...”

“Wait, it’s a serious relationship? How long?” David asks incredulously.

Jon scratches the back of his head like the walking cliché he is and his blush deepens. This, he will pin on Damian as well. “I’ve been, uh... well we sort of... confessed, when we were- I was ten.”

Vash drops his towel. Jon hears Jack yelp from somewhere in the back and hopes he’s okay. Will does a full 360 with his hands on his head, and everyone else’s jaws drop. Jon wants to cackle. You know what, this was worth it. These guys are so dramatic, and the fact that they’re under the delusion that he’s some innocent snowflake- it’s priceless.

“Wha-ha-hat?!” Harry breathes incredulously.

“You’ve been dating this girl since you were fucking ten?!” Kareem gasps.

“What?! How?!”

“There’s no way!”

Harry starts guffawing. Full on, belly clutching, back arching, hand slapping cackling. He’s so loud the others can’t ignore him. Some of them laugh with him. Even Jon lets a giggle escape.

“Jon’s got more game than any of us! Holy shit!” A tear squeezes out of Harry’s eye as he sinks slowly to the ground, joined by Jack, and almost Will.

“Since you were ten?!” Aziz stresses.

Vash whistles, and the rest of the team breaks. Jon ends up on the floor crying with the rest of them. He thinks of it as making up for all the times he couldn’t when Damian said something funny.  
Just when he’s pulling himself together he realizes they don’t even know he’s engaged and he doubles over and dies again.

“You guys don’t even know...” he wheezes. “You don’t even... know...”

“What, now you’re gonna tell us you have a kid?!” John teases, breathless. Which is so much closer to the truth than he means it that Jon nearly pisses himself laughing then and there. He can’t, he has to tell them.

  
“We’re engaged!”, he yells.

If the cacophony from earlier was loud, this is ear-splitting. It’s just pure chaos. Jon feels himself being pulled up from his fetal position on the floor by someone he thinks is Kareem. Everyone else is up from the ground too, screaming the way full teenage male football teams should never be allowed to. They’re jumping and screaming, eyebrows up, cheering. Fists punch the air, hands drag down amazed faces, and no one is still.

Harry picks him up like he weighs nothing and soon the entire team is physically carrying him, and through it all the noise never stops. Jon can’t help it- he laughs, he cries, he cheers along too.

  
Jo tries to hint at Jon being a ‘sly dog’, elbowing him and asking for his secrets. Jon says he doesn’t have any, genius.

“You have to! You got someone to date you at ten! You’re engaged!”

Jon rolls his eyes. “Relationships are easier when you love someone, Jo.”

Jo reels back. “Wowza! Shit! Listen to yourself. You can just say that shit! Like, not even worried about it! You’ve got your shit together, Jonny!”

“Whipped,” comes David’s half-hearted jeer from the back.

“Engaged at sixteen. Honestly, now that I know, that sounds like Jon,” Will clucks.

“I can’t believe it,” Aziz shakes his head.

“Jon is leagues ahead of us, as usual,” David agrees.

“I feel like a Dad. They grow up so fast. Holy shit, how does your dad feel?!”, Kareem adds.

“He tried. They all tried. They knew they couldn’t stop us,” Jon shrugs. Oh, to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation with Batman. He might actually have had the better deal.

“Listen to our boy. Unreal,” Harry chuckles. “We gotta meet this girl.”

Jon goes ramrod straight, eyes shot wide as dinner plates. “No you don’t!”

“She can’t be someone from school, I would know,” Will says as if he didn’t hear.

“True. If they’ve known each other since they were ten it must be a childhood friend.”

“You can’t meet her!”, Jon squeaks again.

Harry frowns. “What? We gotta. You’re engaged to this chick, what are we just gonna not?”

“Yes! That would be great!”, Jon stresses, voice cracking. Shit shit banana split. They’re still under the impression it’s a GIRL.  
Now most of them are paying attention to him.

“Cut us some slack, bro, we just found out you’re gettin’ married and we don’t even know her! We’re your team dude, we’re your boys, we gotta meet her!”, Jack calls.

“If Jack can bring fucking Tamika to practice, there is no reason you can’t bring the girl you’re gonna marry, Jon,” Kareem snickers, earning an elbow from Jack.

“No, yeah, I mean, yeah,” Jon starts eloquently, shuffling on his feet. How is he gonna get out of this? Shit. He should have just shut up. But it was so funny. He sighs nervously. “This is just, kind of a secret, you guys. I shouldn’t have even told you.”

He’s immediately shut down by protests and boos and one well-aimed paper wad.

“Bullshit, like we’re gonna tell! Hey, boys, are we gonna tell?” Harry booms, arms spread, looking around for confirmation. He’s met with fervent head shakes and adamant “of course not”’s.

“Seriously, guys. Will. No telling, okay? There’s a good reason, I promise.”

Will, in an uncharacteristic move, plants a hand on Jon’s shoulder.

“No one’ll know,” he assures.

Jon wipes a hand over the years staining his face. “Okay then... I still can’t tell you, but thanks.”

“No meeting?!” Kareem whines.

Jon makes a split second impulsive decision, fuelled by the laughing fit he’s still riding and the fact that Damian has no power over the proceedings right now, and he’s gonna be PISSED.

“N- ahh, funny thing about that,” Jon chuckles nervously. “You, um, already know them.”

“THAT’S NOT POSSIBLE,” Will cries, and that’s all Jon can makes out from the third fucking uproar in the last hour.

“Jon,” Jo whimpers, melting a little against him. “You can’t. You can’t do this.”

“YOURE GONNA LEAVE US WITH THAT?!”

“JONATHAN KENT—“

Jon laughs again, hand over his mouth, picturing his team doing absurdly serious research to try and find their baby boy’s scandalous secret lover. Damian is definitely the type you’d hide from your parents, famous or not. The image of Karim in glasses leaned over with his face an inch from some dusty old record book while Jo yells outrageous theories is enough, but then he pictures Damian walking in with his piercings and eyeliner in full Robin getup and he’s rolling on the floor.

The best part comes next practice, when the team checks with Jon quickly before racing over to inform Damian that Jonny has a secret fiancé he’s been hiding, can you believe it?!

Damian raises an eloquent eyebrow and turns to look at Jon.

“Congratulations,” he says deliberately.

Jon just recovered from yesterday’s events and at Damian’s direct eye contact it’s all coming back in full strength. He is close to bursting, or melting, or something- people should never have to hold back laughter when things are THIS FUNNY. There should be a RULE. He stomps like a disgruntled bull, trying to tamp it down.

“Congratulations?! That’s it?!”

“It hardly surprises me. Kent may suffer from a remarkable lack of competency, but he has more consideration and level headed-ness in him than the rest of you combined. He is also loyal to a fault, and it’s completely in character for him to devote himself wholly to someone at this age.”

Jon, used to Damian’s sparse praise, isn’t fazed. The rest of the team is shell-shocked. Was that a compliment? From Damian? To Jon?

Damian, a blessed emissary of sobriety, swoops in and has them running drills before any of them can process that. You can’t really think through Damian’s training sessions, so he’s effectively postponed confrontation. But the looks he levels at Jon promises a storm.


	2. Team Baby Protection Squad, Assemble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is Damian always so much harder on Jon than the rest of them? As his teammates and friends, it’s up to Harry, Will, and Aziz to find out.

The rest of the year, and consequent years, become a heated guessing game as to who in the hell Jon’s mystery girl could be, which is exactly as funny as it sounds.

No one even comes close, and it almost makes Damian sad, which is how you know he likes his team. Normally he’d take it as a given that he’d fool any civilian of any standing. High schoolers? No contest. But Damian was raised to value someone for their skills, so when these people- okay, his friends- don’t get so much as suspicious even when they are being what he would categorize as infuriatingly obvious, well. It’s grating.

What they do discover is that Jon is excellent at relationship advice if you think to ask. And they all know what’s up when he’s making heart eyes at the floor, or giggling into his locker. Damian seems to have taken it as his personal mission to make him look as stupidly star-crossed as he can for the sheer validation of crossing his arms and gloating at Jon whenever it’s brought up. The cocky bastard gets more proud of himself with every blush.

(It may also be a compromise for the fact that everyone thinks his boy is all goo-goo eyed for some regular high school girl, and Damian is rather possessive.) 

There’s more than one secret they’re keeping though.

Damian comes to this weekend’s practice session in a leather jacket, so he doesn’t bother covering up his scars with concealer. He’s taken to that, finding he has a great love for style- not fashion, he’s adamant, style- and not willing to give up the great potential of short sleeves. But it’s disgustingly hot today, and the jacket just isn’t doing it for him.

The problem he’s overlooked becomes apparent at the team huddle. Damian is just a little too grateful for their uncharacteristic silence, ploughing through what he has to say. There’s a play they’re going to perfect today if he has to keep them til midnight.   
  


“Dude...” Damian’s head snaps up. No one calls him that, and Goldbloom certainly knows better. “Is that makeup or something?”

He follows his Quarterback’s eyes to his arms. It would seem most of the team is fixated on them. Helmann can’t seem to take his eyes off of a slash wound that runs from his wrist to his elbow, bleeding into a cluster of burn marks that pepper his forearm.

Lovely. No one taught the civilians proper trauma etiquette.   
  


“Tt. No. I didn’t cover them up today. I’ll ask,” his voice takes on a hard edge, eyes flashing as he brings his hands to his hips, “-that you not spread it around.” 

“Oh, shit, those are real?”, Celan breathes. Damian turns his sharp gaze on him. Hmph. Civilians or not, this is an embarrassing reaction.

”Yes,” he states condescendingly. At the responding gasps and wise eyes, he fights the urge to roll his own. He’d love to give Jon a look right now, but breaking eye contact is a sign of weakness, and these children have proven so thick-headed they might actually mistake it for such.

Helmann, who is frequently mitaken for the bravest of the bunch and whom Damian knows to be the stupidest, creeps forward to poke the one he’s been ogling. He seems to be under the impression that if he does it slowly, Damian won’t notice. He feels his eyes narrow as the boy gets closer, but he begrudgingly allows it. It’s quite the trial to get anything through to them; If it takes Helmann fondling his scar tissue to make it stick, so be it. Maybe he’s a kinaesthetic learner (Yeah, if that were the case he’d have learned to play football by now).

As soon as he touches his arm, though, Helmann shoots up from his position like he’s been burned. This time Damian does roll his eyes. All the civilians in the world to learn to tolerate, and he’s picked these ones.

”Oh fuck shit, that’s real!”

Dorian let’s out a low ”Woah.”

”Goddamn Damian, what’d you get into?” Assad asks, looking rather pale. If he throws up on Damian’s field, he’ll regret it.

”Hey, it’s not really any of our business, right guys?”, Jon intones calmly from the back. No doubt he’s been wanting to jump in since this foolishness started. He’s right, of course, but Damian needs to make himself clear. He can’t have rumours circulating in the team or otherwise, it breeds mistrust and it attracts attention.  
  


”Either way, nothing that you’ve seen or we’ve discussed will leave this field,” he states with a punctuated glare, making it less a request and more of a hard threat. “If you must know, I only came to my father when I was ten. Before that, I was with my mother. I get my... disagreeable nature, from her. She was not as forgiving with me as I am with you, so just be glad my bleeding heart grants me the strength to watch you perform as pitifully as you do. Now, scrimmage, five on five. Go.”

That does it. They scamper off into position like meerkats, a sight faster than and quieter than they normally would. 

Damian is left to wonder when he got so comfortable with these meerkats that he’d make an oversight like that.

He makes Jon stay behind after practice on the pretence of clean up duty. As if anything ever gets cleaned in this circus. Zoos are more organized.

”So,” Jon breathes against his skin, running his hand up Damian’s bare arms. Damian hears the same silent question he’s been asking himself all practice.

”I.. don’t know,” he answers honestly. It isn’t something he says often. “You think it was a mistake?”

”Mm, nah,” Jon says with that careless ease that he just radiates. Damian pulls his fingers through his fiancé’s hair, knowing better than to expect him to elaborate at this point.   
  


To his great surprise, Jon does this time. “They’re good people. They’re just nosy ‘cause they look out for each other. It’s not like they ever do anything with it, they just like to know.”   
  


“I would certainly place malicious intentions far out of their range of capabilities, if only on the grounds of blatant idiocy.”

Jon chuckles and it ruffles Damian’s hair. He feels the vibrations against his chest. It brings to mind those guitar riffs in his old 50s rock songs, which is so eclipsingly Jon that it startles a smile out of him.  
  


“That’s the spirit.”

The boys are getting worried about Jon.

They all know their coach had it out for him, has from day one. He’s not nice to any of them, but Jon seems like he can’t catch a break. Damian makes him stay behind to help him clean up, like, all the time. He’s always keeping him back, berating him- even when Jon exceeds expectations (as he is wont to every now and then), Damian only ever has things to say about how he can improve. What he’s doing wrong.  
And Jon is such a sweetheart! He never seems to be bitter about it. He even defends the guy sometimes. Well, he talks his fair share of shit too, but he has been known to speak on his behalf on the odd occasion.

These days, though? These days Damian doesn’t even bother pretending to keep anyone else back for clean-up. Jon swears he doesn’t mind, but sometimes during practice his face will turn red from the things being yelled at him. It would boil anyone’s blood. Will swears he sees them exchange intense looks. It’s clearly getting to him.   
  


It’s Harry who brings it all together. Aziz is the one who brought it up, and Will can’t help but agree. They’ve been there the longest. They know how it was when it started, and they decide it’s time to do something about it. They bring it to Harry, who’s been the unspoken and unanimous leader among them from day one.   
  


“We’re staying after practice, just the three of us,” he says, face set. “We’re gonna set this shit right.”   
  


To no one’s surprise, Jon stays back to clean. Damian doesn’t even order him to anymore, it’s just a given. It makes Aziz a little sick now that he thinks about it. How did they let it get this far?

None of them are expecting to hear the dulcet tones of a solid make out session when they approach the lockers, though. Interesting. Does Jon never protest because he uses the extra time to snog his girl? Does Damian bring girls back here instead of helping Jon clean? Wait, does Damian just make out with girls while Jon is right there cleaning?!

Aziz gives Will a wide eyed look that’s returned, but Harry puts a finger to his lips, frown set in determination. Whatever it is, he guesses they’re gonna find out.   
  


None of them are even slightly prepared to find Damian, who’s got Jon shoved against a locker, seemingly under the impression that Jon is a tootsie pop. It’s a little funny looking, because Jon is way taller and he has to crane his head down because _he’s_ seemingly under the impression that _Damian’s_ a tootsie pop. His legs are awkwardly bent so it’s less apparent, kind of like a giraffe when it leans down to drink. A baby giraffe. The shorter boy’s hands are fisted in Jon’s hair and shirt, and Jon’s got both hands on Damian’s back.

” _WHAT!_ ”

Aziz isn’t even sure who’s yelled, but it makes the baby giraffe jump, limbs flying. His eyes snap wide open, head snapping to see three of his teammates gawking at him and their coach trying to eat each other. He goes redder than they’ve ever seen him in less than two seconds. His spine seems to lengthen in horror.

As it should.

Damian actually _growls_. It takes Aziz a second to realize he’s not actually in danger (not that he’s sure). The boys eyes shift from where they were closed to glare at them (yes, they are definitely in danger) through his dark hair. With his hair falling over his face, eyes glazed, posture atrocious, hand still unapologetically twisting into Jon’s abused shirt, head down and pointed at Jon, he does not look like Damian. Aziz has never seen this man. Gremlin. Demon.   
  


Pretty much the only thing that keeps him from disintegrating on the spot is the height difference. Since Jon’s clambered up to stand, there is suddenly a lot of it.

Jon groans in embarrassment and hides his face. This isn’t unusual, but what makes it different is that this time he hides by ducking his head into the little pit creature’s shoulder.

”Dude!”, Aziz hears someone choke, voice an octave higher than anyone present’s usually is. That might be why he doesn’t realize it’s him.

”Jon, you’re engaged!”, Will blurts out loud. Harry’s head swivels between him and the tongue fuckers.

”Shit, yeah! What the fuck, Jon!”

”You’re cheating?!”, Aziz squeaks, pitch climbing. “With- with _him?!_ ”

And this- this bastard has the balls to smirk. He looks _proud_. He hasn’t even let go of Jon.

”My my, you have another, beloved? How could you,” he purrs teasingly.

He _**purrs teasingly.**_

The head of black hair trying to dig itself a hole to die in in his shoulder lets out a muffled groan. “Oh my gooooood, stop.”

”Jon, I thought you were really serious, man! You’re getting married!”, Harry pleads, horror lacing his voice.

” _Beloved?_ ”, Will echoes quietly beside Aziz.

”Yes, Jon, explain yourself at once,” Damian agrees with that cocky smile never flickering. Aziz swears it _grows_. Jon picks his cherry red face up from his shoulder and glares at him.

”You are so not helping,” he says dryly.

Will gasps. He bring a finger up and points weakly between them with something akin to dawning realization on his face.

”No,” he breathes.

Damian finally gives them his full attention, face splitting with his smug grin, only to pull it right back to Jon.

”It’s not my fault they thought you were engaged to some girl.”

 _”NO!”_ Aziz shouts.   
  


Harry stumbles. “Oh shit!”

Aziz can’t even look away to see what Will is doing, but he starts to hear him wheezing. They all just stand there, and look at each other, and listen to him wheeze.

”I can’t fucking believe you lot,” he heaves.

“Well- I- I mean it’s not like you can just SAY that- that you’re engaged to DAMIAN WAYNE. Can you imagine if that got out?!”, Jon stammers, still blushing, still reeling, and still extricating himself from his compromised position, but determined to defend himself.

”WHAT! _What?!_ I can’t fucking believe this!”, Harry explodes. His hands go into his hair with his eyebrows. Aziz is so unsure what to do or think or say that his hands start mindlessly clapping for him. Maybe he’s broken.

“I know, but please don’t tell. I really wanted to tell you-“

”I didn’t.”

”Shut up, yes you did.”

”Well, maybe a little,” Damian allows. The fact that Jon told him to _shut up_ and doesn’t receive so much as an eye roll from the boy who might as well embody wrath solidifies this reality in a way that catching them sharing tongues never could. Aziz whimpers as it sinks in that these two- THESE TWO- are a thing. Have been a thing.

”Plus, you guys could’ve been against us both being guys,” Jon continues. “If you’re not, rad, but you could’ve- and then he’s the manager, and I’m a player, so isn’t that like cheating—“

”BAHAHAHA!”, Will doubles over. ‘Damian giving Jon special treatment’ is maybe the wildest way to order five words ever. Also, only Jon would ever think of it as cheating. 

Harry isn’t their leader for nothing. He’s got himself together before any of them. 

“I don’t hate you but can I bleach my eyes.”

“I am so mad,” Aziz shakes his head, smiling. “But I’m so not, like, at all. Just, holy shit. Pffffttt-“

Will yelps. “OH MY GOD, ALL THOSE TIMES YOU MADE HIM STAY BEHIND AFTER PRACTICE—“

”aaaAAAAAAAHHHHHHH OH GOD, AAAAHHH!!”, the other two wail, hands over their eyes. Jon has his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. Damian is cruelly snaking an arm around his waist and plastering their bodies together, shit-eating grin still in place and nose in the air.

”Jo thinks you’re like a romance wizard,” Will cackles, “and you’re... you’re with... _him_. You’re with Damian... fucking... Wayne.”

”Does that prove I’m a romance wizard or disprove it?”

”I DON’T KNOW!”

”Are you seriously engaged?” Harry asks redundantly with that same edge of incredulousness they’re all sporting but toned down by a million, because he’s the best of them.

“Uh, yeah,” Jon grins lopsidedly. Aziz watches his hand fold itself automatically into Damian’s. Damian brings their intertwined hands up and kisses the back of Jon’s, looking like the cat that ate the goddamned canary.

”I think we broke them, beloved.”

”Beloved,” Will mutters. “He calls him be-fucking-loved.”

”Are you, um,” Jon shuffles, messy black curls falling into his face. “Are you gonna tell the others?”

Harry slaps himself. Game face. Serious time. Freak out later.

”Not if... you don’t want us to,” he answers, looking at the others to confirm and receiving agreements.

Jon heaves a big sigh. “Cool.”

”They’ll be cool, I’m pretty sure,” Will says.

“No, yeah, yeah... we just... don’t wanna announce it, y’know? We like things where they’re at,” Jon explains, squeezing Damian’s hand. “It’s a real pain in the butt to keep secret, and we don’t wanna make you guys do that.”

“Shit, yeah, the press would self-destruct if they got their hands on this,” Aziz says worriedly.

“Man, I’m sorry,” Will agrees, looking at them with new eyes,

“That’s pretty shitty...” Harry mumbles.

“We’re used to it,” Jon shrugs happily.

“It explains so much though,” Will continues. “Can you even think of all the broken hearts if they knew? You guys are hot shit, you know.”

“Believe it or not, Sheppard, we did notice,” Damian responds flatly.

“We can talk about this- and we _will_ talk about this-“ Aziz cuts in, pointedly looking at the two of them and grabbing his teammate’s collars, “-literally any other time. For now, we are leaving, because our friends were clearly in the middle of something and we should leave them alone to finish.”  
  


“Heh. Finish.”

“Don’t- please, don’t remind me,” moans Harry. “That was my son with his tongue down my boss’ throat.”

“Oh my god, this opens so many avenues,” Will trills with glee as he starts to realize all the ways he can tease them with this. Aziz does everyone a favour and drags them both out.


	3. At least it wasn’t Jo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So three of the boys are in on it now. Does this change anything? You could say so, but not as much as you’d think.

They manage to keep it together and to themselves until the next practice. Jon considers it impressive. Jo wouldn’t have lasted the hour.

Harry’s polite enough to say hello before he starts ribbing him. The other two aren’t.

Jon thinks that Jo must be the only man alive who can make an honest to gods ‘OwO’ face in person.

”Whaaaaat’s thiiiiiiiis?”, he wheedles, sidling up to the trio currently crowding their star player. Once again, Harry proves his decency by giving Jon a short questioning look asking for permission. Jon gives him a nod.

“It just so happens that me and my comrades here found out the identity of our little Jonny’s secret fiancé~“.

”WHAT!” Jon nearly trips over himself scampering over. He’s hindered by the fact that he’s not the only one listening anymore, and Kareem’s stopped dead in the middle of the locker room. He’s solid enough that it makes a difference.

”I would be comrade one,” Will snarks, always delighted to know something the others don’t.

”Comrade two!”, Aziz calls out, leaning against a locker.

“What! Did he tell you? Did you figure it out? How’d you find out?! Tell!”

“Yeah, it wasn’t quite as elegant as that,” Will teases over Harry’s snort. “What we _found_ was them swallowing each other.”

Jon blushes and hits Harry lightly on the shoulder, since Will is out of reach. 

“You walked in on Jon making out with his girl?!” John gasps. Will flinches. Ah, he definitely did that, didn’t he?

“Our Jonny?”, David asks. “Couldn’t be.”

“That’s what we said, but it was definitely our Jonny’s tongue down their throat-“

“STOP, THAT’S MY SON-“

“NO, KEEP GOING!”

“They called each other _beloved_. It was surreal.”

“Whoisitwhoisitwhoisitwhoisitwhoisit?!” Jo begs.  


”Did you say beloved? What are they, vampires?”

Vash quirks an eyebrow. “Is this the big reveal?”

“NO, it’s not,” Jon stresses, “I told them not to say anything. Also, come on, I’m clearly a werewolf.”

“Awww, Jonny baby!”

“You wanna know so bad, find out for yourself.”

“Don’t. Would not recommend,” Aziz cautions.

“You’re the one that walked in,” Jon smirks. “You’re lucky you didn’t come any later-“

“AAHHHHHLALALALALA, CAN’T HEAR YOU, DON’T WANT TO!”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Kareem whispers.

“What’s this about, then?”, Damian demands, breezing in through the door so much like a vampire that Jon snickers. The effect is immediate. Aziz drops his shampoo, Will turns around and busies himself, and Harry puts a hand over his mouth to stop from laughing.

“Don’t give us laps, Harry and Aziz and Will found out who Jon’s girl is,” Jo rattles off. Damian raises an impeccable eyebrow in a beautiful impersonation of Alfred.

“You still haven’t figured it out? If he wanted you to know, he would tell you, and you clearly haven’t got the brain cells between you to come up with it yourselves. You’d be better off solving your defensive problem, because in a real game that would see us defeated within the first quarter.”

“But that’s my boy, Damian!”

“Yes, yes, he’s baby, I’m aware. He can still be baby while he’s fucking someone. A man can be two things. If you’re not out on the field in six minutes, I’ll add a lap for every time Helmann opens his mouth.”

Will, Harry, and Aziz nearly blow it for them, because Will can’t stop laughing into his locker and he has to punch the wall of it to actually keep it together. Jon’s face is once again comparable to a tomato.

“Shut up. Shutupshutupshutup,” he whispers at Harry, who’s making noises not unlike a dolphin.

That’s not the least of it, either. This development introduces a whole new factor to their back and forth, and they incorporate that right into their little game.

One time, Aziz is doing sets with Jon and Damian comes over and says “Jon, no sex until you perfect your tackle,” and walks away.

“You can’t!” Jon calls in horror.

Damian turns slowly. “Oh I can.”

Then he turns again and leaves as Jon goes proper red realizing Aziz heard all of that. Aziz is in the fetal position.

Jon’s tackle is perfect within the week and Aziz doesn’t know if he should be happy about it. He feels cursed.   
  


One time, Jon is smiling down at yet another gift from his fiancé, and Damian looks over his shoulder.

“Hm. She has good taste,” he notes. Coming from Damian, it’s practically a Nobel prize.   
  


“Careful, Jonny. Maybe it’s best you keep that girl of yours under wraps. Damian’s liable to steal her.”

Aziz, Will, and Harry have so much trouble not cackling at that. Seriously, Will nearly dies. He sounds like a broken vacuum cleaner.

“What the hell do you do for Valentine’s Day?”, Jack asks the group at large at that dreaded time of year. “Seriously, I somehow get it wrong every time.” 

“Flowers,” David suggests.

“Chocolate,” from Kareem. 

“Well no shit. Think harder.” 

“It depends on your date,” Vash says wisely. 

“Vash! Perfect, you’re good at this. What the hell do I do for Yvonne?”

The big man shrugs. “How should I know?” 

Jack wilts. 

“Cheer up, fella, there’s always next year,” Will chippers. Jack glares, then his face lights up and turns on Jon.

“Jon! You’re committed, you’ve gotta know. What do you do?” 

Jon thinks about that. Dami doesn’t really like the holiday, but he doesn’t like most things openly so Jon still tries. They usually hang out together, maybe at the fortress or in a park or garden or something, Damian likes those. Maybe they could get ice cream. They play music until they have to go on patrol, they beat ass, turn their phones off, and do whatever they like after that. Whatever they decide to do they commit to, but it’s never set. Last year it was a full Lord of the Rings movie marathon, since Damian had never seen them- although they didn’t get far. This year, Jon’s gonna teach Dami to dance, and Dami’s gonna teach him to use a sword. It, ah, usually has the same outcome, though. It’s really just a regular day for them, but there’s the unspoken agreement to spend it together. 

“It’s like Vash said,” Jon settles on. “It depends on your date. What works with us won’t work with you, probably.”

“Come on, give me a hint.”

Jon gives him a weird look. 

“For Yvonne, spider-lilies. Take her rock climbing, then to dinner at a restaurant by the waterfront. Make reservations in advance,” comes Damian’s snappish tone. When did he come in?

“Wh- thanks...” Jack drawls hesitantly.

“How d’you figure all that for Yvonne?”, Kareem asks suspiciously, leaning back from where he’s crowding his locker. 

“You have to show you care about someone enough to know these things. Spider lilies are her favourite, and she’s always wanted to go rock climbing. You just have to know your target.” 

“Date,” Jon corrects fondly. 

“Right.” 

Jo surreptitiously taps Damian on the shoulder a little later to ask what his date would want. Jon chuckles and shakes his head from across the room, glad he and Damian don’t have to worry about that sort of thing.

Jon is always getting little gifts in his locker. Orange slices for after practice, a bracelet, a new highlighter set, an ice-cold drink. Really nice gestures that make the others jealous and make Jon smile dopily. Jon thinks it has something to do with what Kon said about people having different love languages. If that’s true, Dami’s is definitely gift giving. 

“That is truly sickening,” Will comments with no malice. 

“You two are like the perfect couple. Soap opera material,” Kareem agrees. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think people did that in real life.”

“You know, I gotta admit, when you said you were engaged, I was like, that’s whack. But it’s like watching Cinderella in real life. I don’t even know this girl and I approve. I get it now,” Jack admits. 

“If there were ever any two to get engaged at this age, it would be you two,” Vash grunts. 

“Thanks, guys,” Jon beams. “We’re not perfect, but we love each other. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Will nods solemnly. “Disgusting.” 

“You look pretty perfect from here,” Jack laments.

“Uh, yeah, no. We are messed up. Capital M.” 

“Sure, Jon.” 

“No really,” Jon frowns. “I used to think that too, but it’s not true at all. We mess up. We fight. We get on each other’s nerves. We’re barking at each other more often than not. We both think we understand when we don’t, and we don’t always know the best way to help each other. Sometimes we make things worse. It all got way easier when I realized we didn’t have to be any more than we naturally were. We didn’t have to be perfect. Just us.” 

Jon closes his locker and tucks his newest gift, a pretty white flower, behind his ear. Everyone’s staring at him. 

“...What?” 

Jack blinks. “...that was insightful as fuck.” 

“Dude, _I_ kind of want to marry you now,” Harry says. 

“Pfffft, I just went on a rant about how we kind of suck.” 

“You phrased it so good though...” 

“The most skilled speakers can tell you to go to hell in such a manner that you’re excited to get there,” Damian once again makes his silent entrance and cuts in. There’s something that might be bordering a smile tugging at the sides of his lips. If one looked hard enough, one might even call it fond. “But in this case, Jon means every word.” 

“Jesus, stop just appearing like that,” Aziz mutters. “Give me a freaking heart attack...”

“Well, you’re all invited to the wedding,” Jon grins.

“Are they?”, Damian asks coldly. 

“Oh, don’t worry Dami, you’re invited too.” 

Aziz and Harry look at each other and try not to burst out laughing. Will turns into his locker and doesn’t try at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damian: *gifts Jon a pretty flower to make him blushy so he can cross his arms and snicker smugly at him*  
> Jon: *puts the flower behind his ear and looks like one of the nine fuckn muses and spouts some genuine sappy shit*  
> Damian, now the blushy one: I did not think this through, did I
> 
> Let me know if you think I should keep this going, or wrap it up. I have something in the way of an ending written up but if y’all are interested I figure we can play with this a little more. I mean... the possibilities. They’re endless.   
> Chime off in the comments


	4. A few more epiphanies, for posterity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian isn’t your average guy, and as such he doesn’t quite express his emotions in the average way. That goes for the team, his fiancé, and yes, you too, Goldbloom.
> 
> And Aziz can’t figure it; there couldn’t be two more different people in the world. Jon Kent, certified Sunshine, is in the big love with an actual pit daemon.  
> What’s up with that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry: *is a reasonable guy with reasonable expectations and standards*  
> Damian: You disgust me. Fix it.

Jon has always been the composer of the team’s practices. No one had been game to ask Damian about playing music while they practiced for a while, but Jon had barely lasted a week before he begged the guy to let him play his Jim Jam playlist.

Damian wanted to see how long it would take him to break. Working without a backtrack is just hard labour. It didn’t take long.

Jon’s music is sort of ingrained into him. Like, if you’re taking Jon, that damn playlist is part of the package. He’s put far more work into it than any playlist deserves. Damian doesn’t understand it- if he’s so into music, why not just create it himself? Then he could make it however he want it and recreate it _whenever_ he wanted. He would have complete control. Limitless musical potential. Damian could teach him the violin, and he’d never have to settle for someone else’s work again.

Jon said that wasn’t the point. It’s not about making it, just appreciating it. Also, have you heard Billy Joel? 

It was new to the team too, but it’s become a staple. Jon’s always been in charge of team jams, and he’s never played an Ariana Grande song. He’s never played _anything_ from this decade. Jon’s music is almost exclusively 50s rock- Huey Lewis & the News, Rick Astley, Simon & Garfunkel. Jon is the only one allowed in charge of the music, so at this point the whole team knows all of them. Despite the meme that Jon has the same taste in music as Jack’s dad, it’s grown on them. It’s been years, okay?

So it’s beyond any of them how Harry _still_ doesn’t know the words.

It simply shouldn’t be possible, Damian thinks. On one hand, it might be understandable if he were so concentrated on practice that he was not paying attention, but it blares through the lockers enough as well. And surely, if you hear it enough, you pick up on SOME of it? Civilians might not have the same situational awareness and processing abilities as Damian, but they have to have _some_.

Damian turns the mystery over in his head, incredulously listening to Harry butcher the lyrics to Bad Moon Rising as if he hasn’t heard it once a fortnight for the past four years.

”Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for?”, he calls about twelve decibels louder than necessary.

Damian shakes his head, at a loss. “How?”

”How what?”

”How do you _still_ not know the words?”

Harry rolls his eyes with his whole body. He’s an expressive guy. Italian descent. “Come ooon, cut me some slack,” in a mercifully quieter tone, he adds, “Like you know all the songs on that monster playlist he’s got. There’s like, eight hours on that thing.”

”Twenty-three.”

”Huh?”

”Jon’s Jim Jam playlist is twenty-three hours and forty-seven minutes long. There are three hundred and fifty-eight songs.”

Harry is looking at him strangely. “Are you serious?”

”Why would I joke about this?”, he asks rhetorically.

“...But there’s no way you know the lyrics to all of those.”

Damian feels his face fall flat. He’s trying to be more expressive, but he’s also found that he comes off as more aggressive when he does that. Apparently he doesn’t have much positive to express. This must be one of those situations where he shouldn’t express what he’s feeling right now.  
  


”Of course I do,” he says instead, leeching as much venom out of the words as he can. That’s his fiancé. He knows the lyrics to every single song in that playlist, and all the others he has. He makes it his business to know. He would have them memorized even if Jon didn’t insist on flailing around to them and lip syncing them at him in some passionate aborted serenade. What, did Goldbloom think him some substandard fiancé?

The man himself- well, boy, really- is staring at Damian with his jaw near unhinged. Damian would know, he’s unhinged them. It isn’t flattering. Goldbloom is a Neanderthal.

Sheppard jogs up, obviously desperate to be in on whatever drama he’s smelled from across the field. He’s not quite a Neanderthal. More of a self-important bloodhound.

”What’s this, then?”, he asks. His accent’s not the same as Alfred’s although not far off. Sheppard certainly doesn’t carry it with the dignity Pennyworth does.

”He says he knows every one of Jon’s jammies!”

”The Jim Jams?”

”Them, yeah!”

Will frowns. “But they’re, like, endless.”

”They’re twenty-three hours and forty seven minutes from start to finish,” Damian repeats with an eye roll he can’t suppress (and shouldn’t, they deserve this one). “They are not endless.”

Sheppard looks at him with something akin to glee. “You know what,” he begins with a tone like he’s voicing some life-changing epiphany, “he would, actually. He _would_ know all of them.”

Harry makes some Neanderthal noises. Moves his hands around.

”Use your big boy words, Goldbloom.”

”Why!! How- WHY would he know that?!”

Sheppard, who frequently looks like he’s in on some joke you’re not (ironic) and is no exception now, chuckles happily. “My guy. My man. You know Coach. He ain’t the drive-by type. He takes things way too serious. He’s _engaged_ , for fuck’s sake. He’s exactly the kind of guy to take that to mean he’s gotta, like, memorize his boy’s hair follicles or some shit.”

“Tt. My ‘boy’ makes sure I hear those songs four times as much as you do. Of course I know them. They’re who he is.”

Harry cups both of his giant mitts over his mouth like a housewife watching her wedding film. “Yo, I’m gonna cry a little.”

”Refrain,” Damian bites out coldly.

Harry gasps into his hands, which then fly out to grab Will’s much slighter shoulder, eyes fixed on some far off point above Damian’s head. Slowly, suspiciously slowly, they lower to meet his coach’s.

”Do you _dance?_ ”, he breathes out in awe.

Now, Damian is an expert manipulator. There is nothing in his face that will confirm or deny anything if he doesn’t want it to. But these are high school boys, and whether they see what they want to, believe they don’t need his response, or take his glare for confirmation, none of his training is going to make a difference here.

He manages to make himself heard over their gasping.

”Ten laps. Go.” 

Aziz knows that Damian isn’t really cruel. Okay, he’s cruel, but not like... mean cruel. Well, he’s that too. Look, he’s not a bad guy, okay?

He’s been here from first year. The dude sucked, but he’s changed a fuck ton and Aziz knows he did it for them (and Jon). No one really hates him, he’s part of the team. Part of the family.

But part of the family or not, something doesn’t add up.

Sure, different people click in different ways. Aziz probably doesn’t get it ‘cause he isn’t Jon or Damian. They’ve gotta see something in each other- Uh, a lot, actually- to get freakin’ married. But it’s a mystery to him, and it’s one that’s kind of bothering him.

What does Jon _see_ in Damian?

He’s a good guy, like Aziz said- but Jon is baby. He’s a man puppy. He watches Grease unironically and enjoys it. He turns his music down for stray animals in case it bothers them. He packs an extra juice box for whoever needs it, but always forgets a hairbrush, so Jack has to brush it for him, which is hard ‘cause he can’t stop bopping in place like the sunflower from PvZ.

Damian Wayne is a pit daemon.

He’s always reminded Aziz of a scorpion. Back home there were Fattails and Deathstalkers. Aziz has never met one, thank Allah, he typically doesn’t hang out in creepy dry-ass deserts at night, but he’s seen them in captivity. They never take their eyes off you once they realize you’re there. They’re always facing you, ready to react to any movement. Ready to strike death into you. Their eyes are too small to make out, but you’re always aware that they’re watching everything you do, to the micro scale.

That’s Damian.

Every time he remembers that those two are in love, like, deadass, and engaged, he pictures a scorpion in a tuxedo and a puppy in a wedding dress.

Well, it sort of bobs to the surface of his thoughts when he finds himself on the bench with Jon. Aziz has never been one to just sit on things if they actually bothered him. Not that this _bothers_ him, it just. Bothers him.

”Jon, can I ask you a question?”

He turns his big blue puppy eyes on Aziz, chugging from his Gatorade bottle. “Hm?”

Right, how to word this? “Uh.. mm, eh... meeehhgg.... uh...” Jon lets him um-uh his way to a coherent thought. Considerate. “...Damian?”

A big stupid grin melts onto his face, and a laugh bubbles out of him. He nods. Jon usually gets what Aziz means when he says, like, nothing, so he probably wants to hear him say it for some reason.

”I just... I mean, I’m happy for you, I just... he’s like...” Aziz borrows a few of Harry’s hand gestures for this, it seems to work for him. “And you’re... you know?”

That must be good enough for Jon. ”Mm-hm!”, he chirps happily. His eyes glint mischievously, which is... kind of weird, on Jon.

”Is he... different, with you, or something?”

”Oh no, he’s really like that. But honestly? So am I.”

Aziz tries to clean out his ears, clearly having misheard him. “Sorry?”

”Look, dude,” Jon says, eyes narrowing a little, leaning closer to him. “I think it’s actually me you’ve got wrong. I mean, y’all see me as a precious little thing with all the good intentions of a lamb. Team Baby, right? Pretty sure the rest of the school thinks that too. And I guess I am like that. But I think you’re under the impression that I’m _always_ like that.”

Aziz’s eyes widen as the implications of that sink in.

”Yeah, not even close. Damian’s more upfront about it, and he was raised in a different world than me- but we’ve got a lot more in common than you guys have picked up on.”

Aziz watches the puppy’s tail turn into a scorpion one, swishing happily around his wedding dress.

He gulps. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Phil? More like Dr. Will give my mans a degree
> 
> I just remembered I have art for this on my Instagram, I drew it like a million years ago but it’s ight if u can find it
> 
> Here are some songs Jon definitely puts his heart and soul into lip synching aggressively at Damian:  
> \- who like who, Jordan Pruitt  
> \- stuck with you, Huey Louis & the News  
> \- paradise by the dashboard light, Meatloaf  
> \- never gonna give you up, Rick astley  
> \- come and get your love, redbone  
> \- got my mind set on you, George Harrison   
> \- literally anything by the beach boys


	5. A brief sojourn to the dreaded group chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, of course they have a group chat. It can’t be that interesting. It’s a bunch of high school jocks and their coach. 
> 
> If only.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JonnyB.Goode: Jon  
> BoyWhoLived: Harry   
> TeaMan: Will  
> InTheBox: Jack   
> JoMama: Jo  
> Mustard: Kareem  
> WalkLikeAn: Aziz  
> StarboI: David  
> E: Ian  
> Catman: Dingo (yes his name’s Dingo)  
> TGOCP: CJ  
> TheStampede: Vash  
> Coach/Zuko: Damian
> 
> Allow me to explain.  
> Jonny B. Goode is a song that is on Jon’s Jim Jams. Will is sick of British stereotypes. It’s not his fault tea is so good, especially when spilled. Aziz is Egyptian, and Jon absolutely plays the Bangles, whose hit song “walk like an Egyptian” also features on Jon’s Jim Jams. David’s is a play on the Star of David, since he’s Jewish and likes the Weeknd. Ian can’t believe how much Americans can drag out their E’s when saying his name. Vash the Stampede is an anime. Dingo is a type of Australian dog. TGOCP stands for The Ghost Of Christmas Past. CJ is a textbook emo.

🏈THE BOYSS🏈

  
3:24pm

  
JonnyB.Goode: do we have any more theories on coach

BoyWhoLived: i thought u wuldve been against those 

JonnyB.Goode: think again

WalkLikeAn: i am ✨uncomfy✨

TeaMan: scandalous

E: 👀 i heard jonny bein suss 

Mustard: literally no one sees wat u see dude

E: hes too nice and you know it

WalkLikeAn: actually I’ve been converted

WalkLikeAn: you were right ian 

BoyWhoLived: NO

TeaMan: another good one, lost

Catman: pretty sure weve covered every possible theory for y coach could be the way he is and none of them are good

Catman: also ian I love you but jonny is baby 

JonnyB.Goode: well i mean I hav a few of my own but if ur gon be like that

JoMama: STPO HE DIDNTB MEAN IT

StarboI: EVRYBODY SHUT UPP I WANT HIS THEORIES 

TeaMan: these oughta be good

BoyWhoLived: he might actually be good for it 

WalkLikeAn: the worst part is i believe that

JonnyB.Goode: a) Vampire.

TeaMan: oh my sweeet boiy. that was our first guess

JonnyB.Goode: no, you meant western vampires. Except for whichever one of y’all said twilight vampires, that’s not a category 

BoyWhoLived: He sparkles.

JonnyB.Goode: highlighter.

Mustard: no, he uses a pencil??? What that gotta do with anything???

JonnyB.Goode: its a makeup thing you spork

JonnyB.Goode: anyway 

JonnyB.Goode: I mean middle eastern vampires

JoMama: OWO?!!!.?.?..,m

InTheBox: the fuck

JoMama: educate us, senpai

Catman: you know about this, Aziz?

WalkLikeAn: no fuck u think I’m lookin up vampires in my spare time? I’m middle eastern not a witch

WalkLikeAn: ask CJ

TGOCP: I resent that.

JoMama: but do u know tho

TGOCP: ....

TGOCP: I’m not going to dignify that with a response.

BoyWhoLived: but how different can vampires in the Middle East be from American ones?

TGOCP: Very????

Catman: SO YOU DO KNOW

Coach: This is a pathetic briefing. You lot wouldn’t be able to deduce the colour of a green bean.

E: WHO THE FUCK SUMMONED HIM 

JoMama: HDCDHUBJD WHAT DHDGTHE S HCU I T H T

Catman: WHO LET HIM IN.,

Mustard: HB h 

BoyWhoLived: There was no joining notification he just fucking APPEARED 

JonnyB.Goode: Hiya Damian!!

Coach: Hello Jon.

TeaMan: PLEASE TELL ME HOW YOU GOT IN 

Coach: Don’t be stupid. I’ve been here since this group was created.

JoMama: u fh 

WalkLikeAn: th h a t s n o t p o s s I b l e

StarboI: WEVE BEEN TALKIN ABOUT U WAT YOU MEAN U BEEN HERE

Coach: If you’re determined to butcher the English language, at least be consistent about it.

JoMama: P W KE LE ASE

BoyWhoLived: Jon?!

JonnyB.Goode: I didn’t add him, I swear! Aziz started the chat, so I couldn’t anyway.

WalkLikeAn: LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME I WOULDVE WILLINGLY DONE THAT

Coach: I added myself. I expected this to be a constructive team chat, but it’s been nothing of the sort thus far. Unfortunately, I can’t leave because every so often there is genuinely useful information shared here.

Catman: HOW HE T TYPE SO FATS 

TeaMan: am I dead?

StarboI: this chat is full of theories about our coach ranging from a post-war squidward to a cat in a skin suit 

StarboI: if we ain’t dead yet we boutta be

JonnyB.Goode: damn, I was about to call the cat one next

JoMama: JON HE IS STIL. L HEHTRE

_**JonnyB.Goode** changed Coach’s name to **Zuko**!_

BoyWhoLived: H I FDI

JoMama: N

WalkLikeAn: TIHIS IS TOO MUCH JON 

Catman: I can’t read I’m crying 

TeaMan: that’s factual I can hear him 

Zuko: What does this mean, Jon?

TeaMan: mmmk if he ain’t seen ATLA we gon have issues

JonnyB.Goode: don’t worry, he’s just not up to that part yet. I promise it’s cool damian 

Zuko: I’ve looked it up, and I’ll allow it for now.

JonnyB.Goode: NO SPOILERS RIGHT?.?,???!

Zuko: No spoilers.

Catman: YO I HAVE TO GO TO A WEDDING IN LIKE TEN MINUTES AND IM IN TEARS

JoMama: M E DYTOI

JoMama: ME TDOU

JoMama: ME T O

JoMama: FUCK

TeaMan: so this is how the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a username

BoyWhoLived: how do you do that man???!

Zuko: You should be more concerned with your passes, Goldbloom. You’re the Quarterback, and they’re atrocious.

E: facts

BoyWhoLived: YOU WERE SPOSED TO BE ON MY LEFT

E: not even true

InTheBox: hello 911? I’d like to report a muryder 

TGOCP: muryder

Mustard: muryder

BoyWhoLived: muryder

InTheBox: jo literally exists and yall really gonna do me like this

JoMama: muryder

InTheBox: fuck you

4:56am

Zuko: If you are hiding Dorothy from me I will enjoy pulling your spine out through your esophagus.

Zuko: Oh, wrong chat. As you were.

5:38am

BoyWhoLived: I’m sorry what the fuck?? ?

7:34

Mustard: **_IM SORRY WHAT THE FUCK ?? ?J_**

JoMama: wh y th r fuck r u texcti n its mad earlyy 

JoMama: oh shiza 

TeaMan: Who in the shit fuck is Dorothy 

Zuko: I told you, I simply texted the wrong chat. It’s none of your concern.

Mustard: IDK IM PRETTY CONCERNED COACH

BoyWhoLived: first things first: is she okay?

Zuko: She is fine. Thank you for your concern.

BoyWhoLived: is whoever took her okay?

Zuko: No comment.

TeaMan: WHO THE FUCK IS DOROTHY

Zuko: She’s my turkey. Collect yourself

JoMama: FUCKCNICH SHI TDUDE A TURKEY 

TeaMan: you have a Turkey.

BoyWhoLived: you don’t?

InTheBox: I personally named mine Delores 

Mustard: putting that a s I d e 

Mustard: e s o p h a g u s ?

JoMama: is that even possible?? Is that how bodies work? .??

Zuko: Not naturally, but with the right technique it’s certainly possible.

JoMama: 0.o 

TeaMan: I fear you more than I fear death.

Mustard: As you should.

InTheBox: death is an unknown so there’s at least a chance it ain’t bad but with Damian you are guaranteed to suffer

WalkLikeAn: Hello. I want to be a doctor, but I never want to know how you would do that

JoMama: for a t u r IK y

Zuko: She is far superior company to you, Helmann.

JoMama: please dont eat me 

12:50pm

TheStampede: Has anyone seen my backpack?

E: shit man welcome back 

InTheBox: Vash u been so quiet on this here chat I done forgot you existed

JonnyB.Goode: you lost your backpack?

TheStampede: That’s just it, I don’t think I did.

InTheBox: ....gonna need to clarify that one for us bud

TheStampede: I think it was stolen.

JonnyB.Goode: What!!

TeaMan: Are you serious?

TheStampede: I left it by the bike rack, it’s open to the public. I just turned away for a sec. Thought I’d check with you just in case, though.

JonnyBGoode: while you were at lunch??

TheStampede: Just now, yeah.

InTheBox: shit man, sorry.

StarboI: dude I’m so sorry I saw a guy run past with it but I thought he just had the same one

TheStampede: oh, ok. Thanks.

TeaMan: you need to borrow my books?

TheStampede: Yeah, we share geography next

TeaMan: I gotchu.

JoMama: hope it turns up Vash 

JonnyB.Goode: yeah 

TheStampede: thanks guys

1:05pm

Zuko: Your backpack will be waiting for you outside your classroom, Coulson.

TheStampede: Seriously?

Zuko: Of course.

InTheBox: where did you find it??

Zuko: it had indeed been stolen

InTheBox: oh shit 

Zuko: Coulson, if you want to face the man who tried to steal your belongings yourself, he is at this address.

JoMama: Coach?

Zuko: Yes?

JoMama: that’s the police station.

Zuko: Sharp as ever, Helmann.

InTheBox: is his spine and/or esophagus okay 

Zuko: That’s not pertinent to the discussion.

JonnyB.Goode: thank you Damian!! :D

  
  


4:20pm

JoMama: blaze it

4:25pm

InTheBox: I know this is really stupid, but I just found out the ice cream place near my house is closing down and I’m kind of crying about it

InTheBox: that joint has been there since before I could walk and it’s way more than an ice cream place, you know, like I grew up with it

InTheBox: i just walked by and it’s all boxed up 

WalkLikeAn: that’s rough buddy 

JoMama: yo im sorry jack

TeaMan: not the one by Jackson??

InTheBox: yeah man

TheStampede: I’m sorry to hear that bro.

BoyThatLived: that’s trash dude. You wanna come over or something?

InTheBox: nah think im gonna walk it off I feel kinda stupid crying over ice cream

TeaMan: nah dude that’s totally worth crying over, you grew up with it

JoMama: I cried over spongebob once

WalkLikeAn: was it the Gary song

JoMama: ye 

TGOCP: These little things are what make up who we are, even if we don’t realize it. They’re definitely worth crying over

TGOCP: also for the record so is Gary. He may have come home but plenty of people’s Gary’s didn’t, and never will.

JoMama: YO WHAJT THE E FUCK CJ 

BoyWhoLived: ay fuck u CJ 

TGOCP: 😘

Zuko: Your ice cream place is safe, Dorian. It will reopen this Thursday.

JoMama: say what 

TeaMan: ??

BoyWhoLived: JACKIE

InTheBox: what

InTheBox: OH SHIT 

InTheBox: don’t play with me man are you for real??

Zuko: Of course.

JoMama: full 180

WalkLikeAn: crazy

InTheBox: Coach how did you swing that?!

Zuko: I bought the chain.

Zuko: I assume you’d rather it not change management, so the previous managers have been reinstated.

JoMama: did he say. Bought 

TeaMan: Wayne straight on another level

BoyWhoLived: That’s really good of you, Coach. Thanks for being in our corner

Zuko: It’s hardly a bother if it means so much to you. I wouldn’t want you distracted on the field.

JoMama: swear I heard the ‘tt’ from here

TeaMan: big ups the boys! We love you coach 

InTheBox: Coach, that’s really decent of you. I mean it, thanks. It makes a huge difference.

InTheBox: not to be even sappier about it but I really wanted to take my baby sister there

InTheBox: I kinda promised her

BoyWhoLived: 🥲🥺

InTheBox: if there’s ever anything you need, boss, just say the word.

Zuko: Hmm, how refreshing, but I hardly expect recompense. Take your sister there and show up to practice on time. Helmann can take notes.

WalkLikeAn: i knew Jon was a puppion... but I had no idea Damian was a scorpuppy 

TeaMan: what the FUCK are you on about bruv

WalkLikeAn: you would do well to just... not ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there wasn’t a lot of DamiJon in this one, but these boys have been playing their roles as entirely separate people for their entire high school careers. Best believe they spend 70% of this detached texting time cuddling behind the screen
> 
> Jon has to delete his text every time he mindlessly types “habibi”


	6. Tying up loose ends in the most violent fashion possible, a guide by Damian Wayne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian doesn’t show up to practice.  
> Talia’s in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: angst ahead, but it’s mostly fluff and of course that dash of crack because I am who I am but just so ya know this one got away from me a lil bit whoops
> 
> Stay with me y’all

They have no idea what to do when Damian doesn’t show up for practice.

It’s never happened before. When he doesn’t show up to snark at them for taking a humane amount of time in the locker room, it’s weird. Jack voices it, and Harry says that maybe he’s setting up something special today. A new exercise. It doesn’t sit right- they all know if he did have something that needed more setting up, he’d show up earlier and still be done before they got out there, but none of them have any better ideas. Harry and Will both give Jon questioning looks, but he shrugs and shakes his head. He’s in the dark too.

The rest of their pre-practice banter while they change revolves around speculating where he could be. Theories range from “sucking the blood of some virgin” (thank you, Ian) to “dispatching a high-value target” (which would make Jon flinch if this wasn’t a frequent theory), and coming full circle with “sticking pins in assorted voodoo dolls”.

That one’s kind of funny. Damian wouldn’t bother with voodoo dolls, he’d just cut out the middle man and stab them himself.

By the time they walk out into the field, they feel almost normal. That dissipates as soon as they find it completely empty.

”You think he’s testing us?”, Dingo asks no one in particular.

”Wouldn’t put it past him,” David mutters.

”Look, he probably just... had an appointment. Or something.”

That would be plausible if this were literally anyone else. Their coach would’ve _planned_ for that. To suggest otherwise was tantamount to suggesting the lunch you forgot at home just got up and walked away, and the team make sure to tell Aziz that with the looks they give him.

”I’m gonna call him,” Jon announces, jogging a few steps away and pulling out his phone.

”Is anyone in his classes? Was he there?”

”I only have chemistry with him, and we didn’t have that today.”

”I got history with the guy, but I didn’t notice if he was there...”

”Can anyone think of why he wouldn’t show today?”, Harry asks.

He’s met with head shakes all around. Will gives a quiet “Nah,” which pretty much confirms that no one will think of anything.

Will folds his arms, watching Jon, who’s listening to the other end of his phone. He picks out every detail from his posture to his rapidly paling face in a way only Will can. He straightens.

Jon hangs up after saying a few words and marches back. The sharpness in him isn’t very Jon. Will inclines his head to him with a furrowed brow, and the others quieten to listen.

”He’s... he’s not gonna be here.”

”Jon, you good? He okay?”, Harry asks seriously.

”He, um. Yeah, I’m fine, but... it’s his mother. She’s in Gotham,” he informs them. Muttering to himself, he adds “that’s not good...”

“Wait,” Jo squeezes himself between Harry and Kareem to ask Jon directly. “Not the one that...?” He runs his hands over his arms lightly. Ah, yes. The scars.

“Can’t be,” Jon hears from Vash in the back. He purses his lips and nods.

A couple of them gasp.

”No fucking way,” Kareem bites.

”Seriously?”, Harry demands, eyes wide and horrified. “How is she allowed here?”

”Who says she wasn’t before?”, Will asks darkly. “All we know is that she’s a bitch. Plenty of bitch mums still around their kids.”

”But is he good? She won’t- he’s Damian Wayne, he’s gotta be safe, right?!”, Aziz chokes.

“Did you talk to him?”, Harry asks Jon.

”No. His butler.”

Will narrows his eyes at the boy. He’s not telling them everything.

”What did he say?”

”He’s fine.”

”What did he say, Jon?”

Jon bites his lip and looks piercingly at the ground. “Apparently, they’ve already met.”

”Wh-“

”WHAT?!”

”AY!”

”Excuse me?!”

”Is he okay?!” Kareem demands.

”Yeah, yes, sorry. He’s fine. I’m gonna go- I’ll find him.”

”Text the group chat, Jon! Don’t forget!”

He waves behind him to show he heard and keeps his course. He’s not going back to school today.

Seeing his mother has gotten harder for Damian as the years have gone by. With every year he grew farther from that weapon of a boy he was at 10. She was familiar then; Now she’s... a buried body. He’s paid his respects. She has no right to crawl back up just to taunt him.

Still, she is just a corpse. She can’t hurt him anymore.

But with every time she dragged herself back, her face distorted. Damian isn’t ten anymore. He no longer knows her. There’s always something overwhelmingly familiar about her, but it’s claws lose their grip in him with every passing day.

She is still under the impression that they are deep in his veins when he cuts her head off.

Talia goes just a step too far, confident in the fact that Damian could never kill her. He loves her. This has been true in measure from the time he was born. She doesn’t account for more than that.

”I heard you’ve taken a lover, Damian.”

He didn’t plan to do it, but he doesn’t feel bad about it. He can’t even panic. There was a time when he would have done anything for her, and no matter their circumstances, he could never have killed her.

But Talia is just a corpse, and she went a step too far. 

He would kill her a thousand times before he ran the risk of her ever touching Jonathan Kent.

Alfred doesn’t say a word. He just fetches the tarp.

Three quarters of the way through her limbs, he speaks directly to Damian.

”This is not something Bruce will understand.”

”No,” he responds calmly.

”Then there is nothing to be gained from telling him,” the butler notes lightly, rolling up the tarp.

”Agreed.”

Damian takes Jon through the gardens when he arrives. He pulls him through the hedge maze until their presence is drowned by greenery, and quietly explains what happened.

Jon’s breath hitches. Damian can’t read his face before he’s being pressed against his fiancé’s chest. Jon’s arms shoot up to surround him, and Damian feels him nuzzle against his head like he’s trying to bury himself in the boy. Anything to be closer. He has to be _closer_.

”How did practice go?”, he asks Jon as they walk hand in hand, still mindlessly strolling well after dark.

”There wasn’t one. They were really worried.”

Damian scoffs. “My absence is hardly an excuse to slack off.”

”Ehh, it kind of is.”

”Tt. I can’t leave them to do anything on their own.”

Jon stops, pulling Dami back by his hand gently to face him. He rests a hand on his waist.

”Hmm?”, Damian hums low in his throat.

”Are you alright?”

Damian looks up at Jon. He’s all blue in the light, all but tiny slivers of silver light against a dark silhouette. But Damian knows his exact surface area, exactly where he stops and the air begins. He’s traced Jon enough that he could recognize him blind. So Damian actually _can_ see him in the dark; His eyes are only slightly lidded, not so wide as usual or narrow as not. They look wider than they usually are on account of the way his eyelashes fall. His lips are parted the smallest amount. His hair flies out in front of him. It tends to defy gravity when he looks down like this. It opens his face up to Damian every time he looks at him, like the angle is intentional.

And Damian knows that really is all that matters to him. Jon is not Superman, or Batman. Damian has killed his mother, and Jon just wants to know, is he okay? And Damian knows that if it had been him she’d asked about Damian, Jon wouldn’t have hesitated. Alfred would still have a body to dispose of, and they would still go on their walk and laugh over breakfast.

No one realizes how well this man matches Damian beat for beat, step for step.

”Yeah,” he replies, looking back at the love of his life. “I’m alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooo boysie, that was a heavy one.
> 
> Yo Talia should just count her lucky stars Alfred didn’t get to her first 
> 
> I didn’t read the comics where Damian was conceived but... that shit had to be rape, right? I just can’t imagine Bruce willingly being with Talia my mans is better than that


	7. DamiJon: now in colour!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who figured out how to insert images!   
> That's right, I got my shit together and now there's art. Ta-da!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmkay so since I just now found out how to insert these have an absolute art dump ranging from old to new, and relevant to... not.   
> Imma be a lot more judicious with my application and spacing of art in the future but i gotta make up for lost time :)

[ ](https://i.postimg.cc/ydQ4yFMy/IMAGE-2021-03-21-21-08-29.jpg)

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at @itreallyisthequietones on Instagram, I do tons of art and most of it has to do with what I write, so you’ll probably find some fic illustrations there if you’re interested :)


End file.
